Airplanes
by MyRealNameIsHidingShhh
Summary: Mabel and Waverly are two different people. Too different. They would destroy each other. Set in a world similiar to the 1950s, airplanes are nonexistant, until now. These two will defy the odds, but at what costs? Read author's note. T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: PRETTY PLEASE READ THIS! **

**So this isn't a Sonny with a Chance story, but I based a lot of the characters on the show, at least the first season. Hope you like it but please no flames, I worked hard on this. Constructive critisim always welcome. I have plenty of more to this story, review if you want more! **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sonny with a Chance. I only own this story and its characters. Waverly Anderson is all mine. ;D**

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><p>A thick crowd of people had gathered for this day. <em>The<em> day. It had been over 50 years since the last airplane had been flown. From the air, it would have looked odd, maybe even strange that so many people had driven to Musenberg. It looked more like a thick, congested heap of dirt than a group of people. The town itself was basically deserted; no one visited, not even family. No one played outside anymore, there was too much dirt in the air to do anything but gag. No one really went out anymore except for the town mechanics.

They were the _real_ reason the town hadn't vanished off the face of the earth. They were the reason, along with the pilots, but that's a different part of the story. They were their savoir. When they said that nobody would ever get in a plane again after that day, they didn't listen. They went to work almost immediately, testing, practicing, _flyin_g for the first time in decades.

And for the first time in half a century, people were going to be able to see that. See everything they had done, all their hard work, all those heart wrenching, gallons of sweat, hours and hours had made. But did anyone care about those behind the scenes workers? _No_.

That was the sad fact of it all. No one cared about _how_ they were made or who spent weeks and months just planning it, no. All they cared about was the people driving them. The pilots, which brings us to the other reason why Musenberg hadn't flat out died, the pilots were good at bringing attention. More than necessary most of the time but it gave Musenberg, for the first time in years, attention. People wanted to know what was happening in the small dirt town in the country. The mechanics, humble as they are, lived with it. They just wanted their town to live on, that's all.

The stadium, which had once been a racing track, was completely filled. There were more people in the stands than the entire town. Anxiety swelled in most of the folk, they had never seen so many people. It was a world defying moment, there were people from Risentan, the town east of them which their funny accents and long white dresses, boys always wanted a girl from Risentan. They were cute, petite, and most importantly, dim witted.

Then there were some Tejan boys. Those were the tall, bulky ones. Most spoke like they were either hawking something or just plain angry, or a mixture of the two. It was best to stand a few feet away when conversing.

There were so many people of some many different cultures; it was hard to even notice the people from the actual town. Not that they were very noticeable, they were, compared to everyone else's attire and forms of speaking, plain. But when you got them speaking or debating, you would see something so special and so prized about them, their determination. And that's what had got them here today.

That and Mabel Jenson and Waverly Anderson, but we'll get to that later.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" A voice boomed into microphone, filled with excitement that seemed to bounce off the walls, coming from all sides of the huge arena. It was responded by the cheering shrieks of the people. The announcer went on to talk about what an honor it was to have so many people come out and how it had touched our town. Most complete lies but you could see from the satisfied smirks on some Risentan girl's face, they were content, why ruin that?

Even in the dusty air and windy weather, three single figures stood out. They weren't dressed colorfully, or beautifully. The wore strictly black business suits and stood off to the sides, as if associating with the other people would deem them as savages. They're faces were emotionless, like a gray rock and a tone clearly screamed, "Do not speak to us." It was a polite, firm message.

By now, the arena had silenced enough to hear the announcer speaking rather off topic of his son and how proud he was to be a part of this enormous event and many children were already yawning. That was, until the rumbling vibration of propellers shook them awake. Someone probably knew where this was headed and took it to themselves to send out the planes. It was a smart decision.

The crowd burst into applause and many children tugged at their parents to ask what those motorized machines were. It was not an unusual question; they hadn't grown up with the invention.

"And to test theses brilliant machines we have five of our best pilots here today." There was a small, terrifying moment of utter silence until the crowd burst into a simultaneous thundering clapping. No one had planned on this, not even the men in black, who seemed to show the vague resemblance to surprise before violently scribbling something down on what looked like paper. No one had seen an airplane in nearly 50 years, flying one was an entirely different story.

But, like the man had said, _four _strapping men had emerged from the mechanic bunker and walked proudly towards the stadium. The crowd seemed to notice the number and even the Risentan's girls, who couldn't count twelve chickens, painted confusion on their delicate faces. There was a scuffling of words at the microphone before the announcer spoke again.

"We seem to be having a slight_ mechanical_ problem," He said the word "mechanical" as if it was _only _the mechanics fault, "So in the mean time-" But he was cut off at the roaring noise coming from the inside of the bunker.

Whispers burst, and talk was exchanged of an exploded engine, it was amazing what people could come up with in only four seconds. A moment passed and it seemed as if the announcer was about to speak again when an airplane exploded out of the bunker and scaled down the runway, traveling at an incredibly speed, mechanics from the bunker screaming and yelling for it to stop. People literally jumped out of their seats and watched it speed off, some gasping, others caught in fascination. The plane was small, a pilot's plane, and was the color of cherries in the spring, a succulent, bright red. It had to be going at least 70 miles per hour and had gained tremendous speed and was still accelerating fast.

The runway was only so long and would end in a matter of minutes. It still hadn't lifted. You could hear the crowd inhale as it began climbing, haunted memories of the last flight wandered in their minds but they ignored the signs. Exhaling bitterly and terror filling them as it hit the ground once again, they watched in silence. The runway was gone now and if it still had not lifted, it would hit the house on the other side of the fence if it did not stop or veer off now. The moment had passed and it was on a direct collision course.

It was approaching at a deadly speed and a three year old boy played in the yard as it accelerated. He dropped his ball on the ground as he saw the piercing red figure approaching, only a hundred feet away. A shriek was uttered by his mother who stood at the door with lemonade, which now fell to the ground, shattering. The boy looked from his mother to the plane once again in complete innocence and confusion and just as it was going to hit the white picket fence in front of it, the plane lifted and brushed the tree overhead, making leaves rain down on the boy, who laughed either way. The mother, who had a look of complete terror, briefly looked up to catch the gaze of the pilot, who was grinning after all that, _grinning_.

He wasn't like most pilots; he was younger, sixteen to be exact. He also looked nothing like the average Musenbergan. He had sandy blonde hair, more of the color of the sun than anything else. His eyes were also the color of a clear blue sky, which most Musenberg's never saw quite enough of. He would have fit in better with some Triheran's, who were known for their golden hair color than with a Musenbergan. But that undeniable quality, that feverish determination was more than enough to show where he belonged. The plane had shifted completely vertical and he was going straight up, the pressure of the atmosphere pushing down on him but he had been in too many simulators and air practices to even bother doing anything about it.

He was lost in the energy of the moment. He yelled in joy. He wore his pilot uniform with pride and the dark colors made his fair hair stand out even more than it already did. His face was always in some kind of confident crooked smile that made girls scream for him. Most being a relative term. _This_ was Waverly Anderson.

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><p>"Flight 49, respond please. Over." A silence. "Flight 49 up, respond to dispatch now. Over." Back at the arena, the people had broken out in a monumental applause at the plane going up but headquarters was going insane. They hadn't planned for such an event. They didn't even know <em>who<em> was in the plane.

Rolling her dark eyes in irritation and annoyance, Mabel rushed down the stairs towards the runway. She had been watching from the top of the stadium, standing in the shadows, trying her best not to attract attention but she could tell that headquarters would be going crazy trying to find out who it was. She already knew though. Her eyes focused on her feet, which were moving faster and swifter than the air that brushed her, she didn't notice the crowd of boys watching her in awe. She wore a light brown plaid dress that fell to her knees and wore her dark wavy chocolate hair down, which obviously was a problem with this wind because it hit her face and danced in the wind.

Her dress flapped in the harsh weather, even with her black coat over it, which looked more deranged than it felt. She felt comfortable, that's all that mattered. She rushed by the boys, who were still gawking at her, without another glance. They sighed in discontent, obviously wishing she would have seen them. She didn't even know anyone was watching her. She paced towards the radio dispatcher in the center of the track before she was stopped by a tall, bulky man in black. She noticed he looked nothing like the other men; his gaze was strictly professional, not coldly business.

"Sorry miss you can't go in there. Confidential." He told her in a deep, gruff voice as he crossed his big dark arms across his chest. Mabel scoffed irritably, her dark eyes flashing dangerously.

"Confidential? I know more about that plane's engine than you know your own wife. Let me in." She spat, her eyes flashing venomously. She could see his eyes grey eyes shoot open in what she guessed was shock. She was used to this, she didn't understand why all men thought she this delicate, fragile girl, she was just as strong as the boys and if not, stronger. She could take it just as much as she could give. Make no mistake by the dress; she only got dressed up because she had been looking forward to this day for months, no other reason.

She was saved by her uncle, Paul, rushing over towards her, reassuring the guard that she was part of the group.

"Mabel! Boys, she's here." A quick group of exhales erupted from the table with the dispatcher. She would have laughed if she hadn't been staring so intently at the guard. Mabel was still scowling; her uncle quickly took her shoulders and dragged her towards the radio, Mabel still had not stopped glaring. The guard gave a cold shudder. There was quick wolf whistle directed towards Mabel that shook her back to reality.

"Nice dress Mabel! Very attractive. Very sexy." They teased and the boys immediately started clapping eagerly, shouting vulgar words and pointing towards their laps while the men off to the sides watched in amusement. Mabel groaned in disgust.

"Shut it or I'll shove it up your-"

"Now Mabel now is no time for a biology lesson." A deep voice echoed and she looked briefly surprised at her father's appearance before nodding bitterly. He looked like he always did mechanic's grease all over his calloused hands with his regular blue overalls that were smudged in dirt and grime. His dark hair that matched his daughter's was greasy and messy, like always.

She nodded disgruntled and grabbed the transmitter and instinctively began speaking. She waited for no one.

"Flight 49, answer back. Over." Her voice was firm but there was something in there that just screamed, _"If you don't answer, I will blast you out of the sky."_ Up in the air, Waverly was a little thrown off by her voice. But he quickly recovered and answered with a coy, "Hello?"

Mabel was ready to claw his eyes out.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" She screamed into the transmitter, causing the boys around her to jump but not Waverly, who had already moved away the device from his ear, knowing fully well how bad he was about to get screamed at.

"Flying. Duh." She scowled at the paper in front of her, imagining it was Waverly falling from the sky and burning up and made a hard fist in her hand. She knew it was Waverly, who else would fly a pilot plane directly into the sky in front of a huge crowd and nearly die without anyone knowing?

"Waverly I swear to God that if-"

"If I what? If I die? Would you be sad for me?" He teased, obviously playing with her and she gritted her teeth. He laughed at her obvious fury.

"Waverly if you so much as get _one_ dent in that plane, I will personally-" But again, she was interrupted by the infuriating, deep voice of Waverly Anderson.

"Oh,_ personally_. We're really getting into it now. Do you just want to propose now and get it over with?" He could practically see the raw fury gathering in the back of her throat and suddenly, the sky seemed like the only safe place in the world. But before she could answer, the plane zipped through the stadium and the crowds looked as if they were going to pass out in excitement. Her dress rippled and her chocolate hair danced in the wind once again. She knew the boys would have teased her if it weren't for the pure hatred in her eyes.

"WAVERLY!" She barked into the transmitter, some surprise in her voice but he had already hung up. "Damn it!" She cussed loudly, her dress now returning to its normal position, though her hair was still flying. She jerked her head in different directions, searching for where that red devil of a plane had gone. She swore if she ever got him back on the ground, she would herself melt down that plane.

"What did he say?" Michael asked, one of the other mechanics, obviously the only one with the courage to ask the seething girl any sort of question.

"Is he not coming down?" Another voiced curiosity in his voice more than anything. Probably wanting to know what she was going to do.

"Oh, like HELL is not coming down." And with that, she stomped out of the small tent and jogged towards the crowd again, seething with anger.

"And that my boys, is why you don't mess with girls. Especially ones like Mabel." Uncle Paul said and in the distance you could hear Mabel's distressed shouts of "MOVE!" The boys nodded in complete agreement.


	2. Chapter 2

**Already well I was a bit disappointed to see I got, count em, 0 reviews, but whatever. If your reading this, please do review, it makes me VERY VERY happy to know somene is reading my story. :D Alright, well this is the continuance (is that a word?) of the last chapter. Have fun!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sonny with a Chance or any of their characters. That would be Disney. But I DO own Waverly and Mabel. Such a cute, complicated couple. :)**

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><p>Waverly chuckled lightly as he hung up on Mabel and drifted his attention from the fuming brunette to the skies over head. He had always thought the snow white clouds were so calming, great for thinking about…And there she was again, attacking his thoughts again. It's not like he tried to think of her, it just happened, like a persistent fly, always thinking it's gone until you feel it again, and again. That's what she was, a persistent insect that needed to be put down.<p>

He didn't enjoy the thoughts, but he couldn't help but wonder why he was having such day dreams so often. Why he was picturing her laughing with the sun behind her, highlighting the blonde streaks in her hair, the wind flapping her chocolate hair against her face like it always did. Ok, maybe with that one you can infer that Waverly could have some kind of feelings for Mabel but most of his other day dreams were just of Mabel, smiling at him or laughing, wearing her usual dark mechanic attire and messy pony tail.

He had no idea why he did this so casually, and even stranger, why the thoughts were becoming more frequent. And what terrified him more than words could put, he was beginning to like them.

He quickly withdrew his thoughts from that horrifying realization with a pilot spin and thoughts on all the other girls he could have, none being the one he wanted. He stared out the window and savored the clear blue sky above him. Only at this high an altitude could you really enjoy it, in Musenberg, the air was so filled with dirt and dust, you would be lucky to see a smudge of what looked like blue in the sky.

That was one of the things he truly missed about Trihera. Yes, Waverly had been to Trihera. He never understood why the people here made such a big deal about it. It wasn't like he was born there, no. His life story was…complicated to say the least.

His mind wandered when he tried to even remember his mother at all. All he remembered of her was some sort of smell that reminded him of pine and roses and her voice at night, that's all. Why only at night, he didn't know. Why roses and pine, he didn't know either. He didn't remember her smile, or laugh or touch. The only thing he knew inherited from her eyes and hair, but trait wise, he had no idea. It's not like a cried himself to sleep trying to remember or that the haunted memory nagged at him and screamed at him to understand it. He just wanted to know something, anything. At least...something.

But like his father always told them,_ "Emotions are weapons against us. You learn how to use them, they are weapons against others."_ Waverly sighed, for what, he had no idea. It seemed like these days, he was more confused than sure of anything.

He looked down and smiled without any need of emotional downturns or disappointment. A photo of Mabel started back at him. She was wearing her usual mechanic attire, with her dark hair tied back and her arms showing, working on the airplane he was hjacking. If you looked close enough, you could see the small beads of sweat on her forehead and neck, even it was a black and white photo. You could see her snow white complexion glow through the picture and her black hands and cheeks from the engine's grim. But what he loved about the photo was that she had no idea she was even being photographed until she looked up, he had caught her with her eyes big and wide and mouth partially open, a deer in headlights. Sure, he had heard her endless ranting about how rude and obnoxious it was for him to do that, but he could see her blush, even in the black smudges that covered it. He deemed it worth it.

There was a shriek heard outside his window and he noticed that he was flying closer to the stands and grinned devilishly. _Now it was time to have some fun_.

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><p>"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T BRING HIM DOWN?" Mabel shrieked once again, her voice raising several octaves in what she hoped wasn't worry. The man looked very calm about the whole situation, obviously have dealt with her before, while the young men around her practically shriveled down in the seats.<p>

"I mean, that we can't bring him down until he comes down. I'm sorry miss." There was a tone of pity in his voice, as if he was speaking to the girlfriend of a passed solider. She scowled at the man, but took a deep breath. They had been agrueing for over ten minutes.

"Are you sure there is absolutely nothing you can do?" She asked once again, her voice restrained andtight. This had been her first question, that and "Do you have anything to shoot him down with?" Disappointedingly, both were a no. She had sprinted up to the command tower after Waverly and her's _so_ productive talk. At this point, all she wanted was Waverly within neck squeezing distance. Her stomach knotted in anxiety and she was sure she would have broken fingers by the grip she was holding her fists.

"Unless communication will do anything, nothing." Moving towards the transmitter, Mabel was already sending her message. The commander rolled his eyes at the young girl but all the same went back to his desk of paper work, knowing fully well that Mabel's message to Waverly would probably not make her happy. He prepared his earplugs.

"Flight 49 up, respond immediately. Over." There was an edge in her voice that she despised. Waverly heard it too and picked up immediately, as she had demanded.

"Mabel? Are you alright?" She wanted to kill him and cut his body into little pieces, she didn't think that qualified as "alright". She stopped herself from shouting oh so colorful words at him and inhaled.

"Waverly, God help you because when you touch solid ground I will personally cut off your favorite body part." The room shuttered, but Waverly seemed unfazed. "Do you understand me? Get on the ground, now!" She sounded as if she was about to explode or cry, either way, they both frightened Waverly, but he didn't back down. He knew her better than that.

"Mabel," He said quite seriously and she was taken back. "Are you sure that this isn't some excuse to tell how you really feel about me?" She could feel the heat climbing on her cheeks and she struggled to find the words. "I…you….Waverly…" She sputtered, not having the words in her throat and she felt his smirk.

"Speechless, huh?" And he hung up, leaving her with that twisted, cocky voice dancing in her head. She dropped the transmitter and she felt the whole world go dark with rage. Everything seemed to be tuned out, she couldn't hear or speak, she just felt an emotion stronger than life itself, it was vengeful, controlling and the most passionate thing she had ever felt. It filled her, it made her ache, she had no idea anyone could feel so angry. But everytime she took a step, a step she didn't even feel, she doubted it was even hate. She had felt hate, she had felt annoyance, irratiance, power, and feelings she could never be asked to describe because they touched her in a way that was wordless. It was as if someone had poured buckets of steaming, blazing lava over her skin, it bite and burned, it raked her skin and did nothing to calm her, if anything, it made her hate rise, stronger and harder. But this feeling...it wasn't controlling, it didn't make her blind with emotion and thoughtless actions, no. It felt different, feverish almost. She walked towards the door and she felt every step again, it coursed through her body in lightening speed, pounding against her skull, and felt as if every nerve was electricty. The plane flew by at an incredibly speed and maybe she was only imagining it, but she thought she saw him glance her way and wave ever so slightly.

Something snapped. Something in her changed. The feeling grew, almost as quickly and intensly as hate had felt. But this wasn't hate. It was something as powerful, as bursting, as heated, it weighed on her chest and she was sure her fingers had snapped at the blood stopping grip she had on them. Thoughless, she waved her hands over her head, trying to catch his attention. In reality, she did, he was watching her from the corner of his eye, but he wouldn't let her know that. Where was the fun in that? Besides, he much rather see her pout and get upset.

In a state of pure excitement and plane ecstasy, he attempted something he had only practiced. The plane turned straight down in a vertically drop and spiral downwards. Mabel couldn't stop the shriek from escaping her throat. Her stomach fell and her heart rate stopped. She didn't know what she was feeling. Maybe it was just the pity and fear of the death of a human (although he probably deserved it) but she was filled with horror. The feeling only grew and Mabel felt she was going to fall over at the knots in her stomach. Her head felt hot, her voice was all but gone, and her breakfast seemed to be coming up; she felt faint. The crowd was on its feet now, gasping and waiting. Waverly was stuck in spiraling, state reaching rapidly ascending ground.

_He was going to die..._ The words echoed in her mind numbly, By the time he would pull up, it would be too late. He would be dead; the plane would crash into thousands of pieces and he would be-

The plane had pulled up, inches from the ground by the way, and flew smoothly through the air until it landed at headquarters. The audience had gone beyond deafening. People were shouting, screaming, crying, every emotions of surprise there was. Even the black suit men looked surprised or some sort of diluted version of it.

Mabel on the other hand had fallen to the ground, the feeling falling, along with her body, her knees buckling from under her. After a few minues to regain her senses, Mabel blinked and sat up; she felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her.

"Flamboyant ass." She gasped, desperate for air, as she stood up and looked around the arena when her eyes landed on Waverly, getting out of the plane with a crowd of pilot boys around him, his fair blonde hair standing out among not as the lighter haired pilots. She screamed at the top of her lungs his name, but it was nothing compared to the thundering applause and shrieks of everyone in the crowd. Mabel didn't care; she was getting to Waverly if she had to murder someone first. She sprinted down the stairs, stumbling over her own feet at times and falling on her knees, only to be almost trampled by the wave of people going in the same direction as she, but she just got right back up and ran again. She must have fallen so many times, her knees were covered in blood and dirt, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything anymore.

Barriers had been up before but now it seemed like they were the only thing keeping the people from the pilots and mechanics. Mabel shoved herself through the immense crowd up against the clear plastic barrier. She tapped against the plastic vigorously and the man, the one who had stopped her before, was now holding back arms full of people, looked at her. She must have some sort of look in her eyes, desperate, furious, raw fury, or that feeling that seemed to be creeping back because he gave a low sigh and quickly opened the gate for her.

She didn't wait to thank him; she made a beeline for Waverly. He was still on top of his plane, shouting and cheering with his fellow pilots who were treating him like a king. The lifted him on their shoulders and he laughed loudly, some of the older men even clapped in appreciation too. The set him down on solid ground and he was unaware of the furious girl coming up behind him, having no idea of the whirlwind of emotions he had put her through. Some of the boys saw too and tried to warn him, looks of dread filling their features but he was completely unaware until he felt a hard push on his back.

She felt like she was going insane with the fear and hatred she was feeling, or what she told herself was hatred; her head was spinning and her breath was ragged. She didn't know what she felt, but she did know that when she shoved him, that it felt good. So vengefully, sadistically good.

He spun around to meet her dark, filled with loathe eyes, while half way tripping forward. He noticed that she was wearing a dress and a dark coat, even though it was far from cold. Her dark hair twirled in the wind and her eyes flashed murderously. He briefly noticed her banged up knees and dirt smudges across her face, but he didn't think too much of it. He anticipated the worst, though he couldn't help but notice she looked sort of cute when she was that angry.

He didn't anticipate quite enough. For a moment, there was a prolonged silence, as if she was telling him something with only her eyes and he was trying to understand. Even with the deafening noise, the silence was loud enough to affect them both. Then the shouting began.

"WHAT THE _HELL_ WERE YOU THINKING?" She screamed and pulled his collar so they were face to face. He noticed that she was much stronger than she looked, not that he didn't already know, he had been hit, punched and shoved by her more than he could count, but it still surprised him how fragile she looked. He didn't even flinch. He noticed how her eyes were big and how her face was flushed. He found it oddly innocent and attractive at the same time.

"I can see you're just peachy." He grinned and her stomach flipped in what she told herself was disgust. The stupid, insistant feeling seemed to grow in her and she felt as if she was going to fall over and sob and scream at the sky and earth, all at the same time. She decided to do neither that she so desperately wanted. She only pulled him closer and narrowed her eyes. They were inches from each other.

"Listen here Anderson-"

"Last name basis now Mabel? Really?" Ouch. If looks could kill, Waverly would have been stabbed, shot, and burned.

"You could have gotten yourself killed, and more importantly, you could have damaged the plane!" She shrieked, her temper rising with every arrogant glance her way, her voice raising several octaves. She hated the way his blue eyes could look so unconcerning and innocent at the same time, like now.

She had shoved him away finally and was staring at him, waiting for some sort of excuse. She was very aware of the silence among the mechanics and pilots, who were just watching them. Waverly was not. He stepped closer towards her and her breathing stopped completely; she refused to breathe any air contaminated by his breath. He looked up at her, and a mischievous smile played on his lips.

"You wouldn't want _that_ know would you?" She sputtered with her response because she wasn't sure what he was talking about, the plane or him. He obviously knew this and grinned wider. She finally pushed him away, after what felt like hours, feeling dizzy and looked up from the ground and scowled.

"Go to hell Anderson." And as she spun around to go back to the mechanics bunkers, she heard his response of,

"As long as your there with me."


End file.
